


Our Definition of Perfect

by ALittleWren



Category: Neighbours (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleWren/pseuds/ALittleWren
Summary: At the end of a hectic day, Paul Robinson takes advantage of a rare quiet moment to reflect.
Relationships: Paul Robinson/Terese Willis
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	Our Definition of Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me in a dream (don't ask) and wouldn't leave me alone so instead of writing it my head like I usually do, I decided to write it down. Seeing as there's a very limited number of Neighbours fics out there, I figured I'd subject other people my ramblings. I can only apologise.

'Today has been a really weird day'

Paul Robinson thought to himself. Granted, not usually the normal way for someone to look back on their eldest daughter’s wedding day, but weird really was the only way to describe it. It had all started in the early hours of the morning, when he’d heard the first rumblings of thunder. Lo and behold, a large storm had rolled into Melbourne, and everything had gone downhill from that point on. Leo and Jimmy’s connecting flight from Hong Kong had to be diverted to Canberra (Paul had suggested they fly in the day before, but nobody ever listened to him) and the gazebo set up by Lassiter’s Lake had collapsed in the gale (Paul had suggested that an outdoor wedding in Melbourne was risky, but, again, nobody listened). Amy had received a call from the florist that morning, saying that she was stuck in Daylesford, and wouldn’t be able to make it and fallen trees had taken out the power throughout most of Erinsborough. To make matters worse, Terese had been on leave from work for the last few months, and nobody else had thought to get the back-up generators serviced, so the entire complex had been plunged into darkness, and the caterers had no means of cooking the food. On top of that, Kyle had gone out with his friend Honga the night before and couldn’t be found.  
Fortunately, the residents of Ramsay Street mobilised and came to the rescue. David and Aaron had set out stupidly early to retrieve the two airport refugees from Canberra, whilst Roxy and Sheila relocated the wedding to inside the Waterhole, complete with enough candles to be considered a major fire risk. Toadie and Gary set up their barbeques outside the complex, whilst Shane and Dipi raided Harold’s for any baked goods that could conceivably be passed off as wedding food. Elly had been tasked with keeping Amy calm (or at the very least trying to) whilst Chloe and Ned attempted to relocate the Groom. Kyle was eventually found tied to a lamppost on the side if a main road, thirty minutes away. He’d lost his shoes, his shirt and much of his dignity, but, Paul reasoned, he’d have lost a heck of a lot more if he’d stood his daughter up on their wedding day. Meanwhile, Karl and Bea had stepped in to provide the wedding music, under the instruction that any version of ‘Free as a River’ was strictly prohibited whilst Harlow had spent most of the day guarding Susan, just in case she decided to get lost in the bush again. 

Although he hadn’t known anything about any of this until later that afternoon.

Paul’s gaze settled on his wife sound asleep in the bed across the room. Outside the door, he could hear the nurses chatting- the general hustle and bustle of a hospital- but in this room at least, a sense of calm prevailed. Over the past 38 hours (was it 38? He wasn’t really sure, and at this point, Paul was much too tired to do the maths) this room had experienced a number of mood changes- mostly from him. He’d known seeing Terese in pain would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected her to be pain for quite so long.  
The hours had seemed to drag by in a never-ending cycle of rises and falls. The more hours that had passed, the longer the rises lasted, and the less frequent the falls became, until all of a sudden, time stood still. Silence fell for a brief moment, before a shrill cry pierced the air.  
Paul looked down at the tiny bundle cradled in his arms, and the teeny tiny fingers clasped tightly to his thumb and smiled gently to himself. The teary, elated smile that had graced Terese’s face when their child had been place, crying and squirming, on her chest had almost made his heart burst, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his cheeks as well.  
Unfortunately, that blissful bubble hadn’t lasted long before it popped, a short while later. Just as they were all getting settled, it had suddenly dawned on him what else was supposed to be happening today. 

It was impressive he’d managed to forget, actually, considering how much of the last few weeks he’d spent fretting over his father of the bride speech. Paul had checked his phone at that point, only to be greeted by an onslaught of missed calls, texts and voicemails from various family members. Then it had been Terese’s turn to be the calm reassuring one. Somehow, she was able to calm him down, get Roxy to deliver his suit (and the speech) to the doors of the hospital and locate some last-minute replacement wedding flowers. If she hadn’t already earned herself a medal at that point, she certainly did then.  
When he’d imagined the morning of his daughter’s wedding, Paul had seen himself calmly getting ready in his own home, maybe breaking up the bickering between Roxy and Harlow, or reminding Terese that she should be taking things easy, before setting down next to a beaming Amy in the back of a luxury vintage car. Perfect. In reality, he ended up getting changed in the hospital toilets (not a pleasant experience), before clinging on for dear life as Roxy made what can only be described as a valiant attempt to get Hermione permanently written off (also not a pleasant experience; although technically Hermione was a vintage car).

He was brought out of his reverie by his new daughter relinquishing her grip on his thumb, bringing her tiny hand up to join the other in front of her face. Paul chuckled to himself lightly, glancing over to his wife to see her doing the exact same thing. Just like her mother. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled in the sky. The storm that had caused so much drama today gearing up for another assault. At some point during proceedings- maybe around the 20-hour mark- he’s suggested to Terese that they call the baby Lightening.  
That hadn’t gone down very well.  
The glare she’d pinned him with then could have frozen hell. Probably for the best though, Emma suited her to perfection.  
And, oh God, was she perfect. She was a child of Terese’s though, so Paul shouldn’t really have expected anything less. Absolutely tiny, with a shock of dark hair, and the most beautiful big brown eyes that twinkled in exactly the same way as her mothers.  
The baby stirred slightly, and instinctively so did Terese, who greeted Paul with a tired, contented smile.  
‘Hi.’ He said softly, returning her smile.  
‘Hi.’ She echoed, slowly sitting herself up. ‘I didn’t hear you come in’  
‘I didn’t want to wake you’.  
Terese’s gaze moved from him to their daughter, and Paul raised himself from the chair he’d been sitting in and moved over to the bed, gently passing the baby over to her. She pressed a kiss to Emma’s head before settling her in her arms. For a few moments Terese was completely captivated, and, not for the first time that day, Paul’s heart felt completely full. He was brought back to earth by his wife’s voice  
‘How was the wedding?’ she asked.  
Paul sat down next to her the bed. ‘Good. Really good, actually. Not quite what we were expecting but Amy and Kyle seemed happy.’  
‘And the speech?’ that question came with a slightly teasing tone. Paul sighed,  
‘It was alright, I suppose. The day got to me a bit. It was much sappier than I wanted it to be’.  
At this Terese chuckled  
‘I’m sure Amy wouldn’t have minded’.  
‘Well no, but I do have a reputation to maintain, darling.’  
A comfortable, contented silence fell over the room, as the couple sat transfixed by their new daughter, Terese’s head resting on Paul’s shoulder. 

‘Look at all that hair’ Terese said, running her finger gently down Emma’s cheek.  
‘She’s definitely a Petrides.’ Paul said and Terese hummed in agreement  
‘Yes, which means you’ll have your work cut out, she might be a little…’ she paused for a second, searching for the right word ‘fiery.’  
‘Fiery?’ Paul laughed ‘Is that what you’re calling it?’  
‘Hey, you have to be nice to me, I had a baby less than six hours ago’ Even after almost two days without sleep, Terese was still capable of coming up with a quick retort.  
‘And I am so very proud of you, my darling. You didn’t exactly have an easy time of it.’  
‘She was worth it though.’ Terese smiled, allowing Emma to wrap her fingers around hers ‘She’s just so perfect. Even if all her clothes are way too big’.  
‘She is pretty tiny.’ Paul agreed ‘I’ve asked the kids to go shopping tomorrow to buy some smaller things for her.’  
‘No pink.’  
‘Don’t worry, I’ve specified not too much pink and I’m sure Ned and Harlow will keep Roxy in line.’ Terese shot her husband a dubious look.  
‘Well mostly.’ He conceded. ‘On the topic of Roxy, remind me to check the insurance policy for Hermione.’  
Terese’s expression changed from dubious to worried.  
‘Oh, it’s nothing like that, it’s just after today, I need to check it’s comprehensive enough.’  
‘Right.’ Terese still seemed unconvinced.

The reminder of his adventures on the roads of Melbourne that afternoon brought the other events of this hectic day back to him, and Paul couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Terese turned to him, amusement written across her face.  
‘What?’  
‘I’m just thinking. Today’s been a really weird day.’  
It was Terese’s turn to chuckle this time ‘Good though?’ she asked.  
Paul pressed a kiss to his wife’s head, before taking Emma’s hand, a big smile on his face.  
‘I’d go as far as saying it was perfect.’

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is taken from the song Life by Sleeping at Last. As an aside, if you have a chance to listen to their Enneagram album, I'd highly recommend numbers Three and Eight (the numbers Prue assigned to Paul and Terese in London). The songs fit perfectly with how I see the characters.  
Feedback would be most appreciated.


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